


boyfrien

by paladumb



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a little langst?, and there's like, but otherwise it's just fluff, this is really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladumb/pseuds/paladumb
Summary: The second Lance passes the bathroom, he realizes that he’s almost forgotten the thing in the world that’s most important to him.“No! My skin care routine!”Based off apostbyvoltron-messenger. Lance gets really drunk and says some things. Keith's heart stops beating multiple times.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ugh so this got out of hand

“Lance,” Keith sighs, exasperated.

Lance stands at the doorway, gripping the frame and shaking his head. Keith’s finally _finally_ gotten him, in order: to stop drinking shots, out of Rollo’s stupid party, into a cab, out of the cab, into their apartment building, and now this _fucking idiot_ won’t come inside their _shared fucking apartment. How does he not recognize it?_

“Lance, please come inside. You need to sleep.”

“Nuh-uh. No I don’t. You’re a liar.”

Keith takes a big breath. He loves his boyfriend. He loves his boyfriend. He loves his boyfriend and _does not want to kill him_.

Okay, fine. He wants to kill him.

“Lance, am I going to have to carry you inside?”

Lance’s eyes widen. “I don’ like being carried by anyone other than my boyfrien.”

Keith narrows his eyes and his mouth drops open. “Lance. Who the fuck is your boyfriend again?”

Lance sighs dreamily and leans against the doorframe, but he topples inside instead, reflexes too slow to grab the wall. Keith resists a fist pump - finally, he’s inside - but it’s a close one. He hurries over to Lance, who’s lying on the floor staring at the ceiling, and closes the front door. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yuh-huh,” Lance says proudly. “My boyfrien’s really pretty and his name’s Keith!” He enunciates _Keith_ very clearly and Keith’s heart thumps loudly. “And he wouldn’ want me going into anyone’s home but his.” He pulls Keith down and giggles in his ear. “We live together.”

“I think your boyfriend would much rather you were safe and sound inside a room instead of lying in a hallway,” Keith says. “Let’s get up, come on.”

“I think my boyfrien would get along with you,” Lance says quietly as Keith pulls him up and puts an arm around his waist to steady him. “You’re both very busilissnike. Businikeklies. Buisisinilkes. Fuck.”

“Businesslike?” Keith asks absently as Lance starts dragging his feet. His face lights up.

“Businissleck! That’s the one,” Lance says.

“Lance, guess what?” Keith questions, kind of excited to see Lance’s face light up at the revelation he’s about to bestow upon him.

“Hmm?” Lance asks as Keith pauses at the bottom of the set of five stairs that he has to get this fucking idiot up.

Keith grins at him and gives him an Eskimo kiss. “I’m your boyfriend.”

Lance’s mouth drops open. “You’re _shitt’ng me_.”

“I’m not.”

“No _way_!” Lance says, delighted, and leans precariously away from Keith’s grip to squint at his face. “I don’ believe that for a secon,” he pronounces, leaning back in but turning his face away from Keith. “You’re way too pretty to be my boyfrien.”

Hurt curls in Keith’s stomach but he squashes it down. Lance is _drunk_. He doesn’t mean it. It doesn’t stop his mouth from blurting out, “The hell does that mean?”

Lance gasps and turns back to him, framing Keith’s face in his hands. “No’ tha’ you’re no’ prety! Tha’s no’ what I mean at all!” He’s slurring worse in his panic. “You’re really pretty,” he says, his eyes flicking all around Keith’s face. “I just know that _I_ couldn’ ever bag someone this pretty.” He trails his fingers down the side of Keith’s face.

This time the feeling that curls in Keith’s stomach is worlds away from hurt for himself. He kisses the top of Lance’s head. “I promise you you can,” he says. “Now come on. Let’s get you to sleep.”

-

The night doesn’t end there. The second Lance passes the bathroom, he realizes that he’s almost forgotten the thing in the world that’s most important to him.

“No! My skin care routine!”

Lance’s skin care routine is the thing furthest from Keith’s mind right now. “You can afford to skip it for tonight,” he says, detaining Lance with his arm _still_ around his waist as his boyfriend flails at the bathroom. “Your skin is beautiful, it won’t matter if you - ”

Lance stops struggling and he whips around to glare at Keith. “ _No._ You can’ afford to just SKIP a night. Tha’s not how it works,” he snaps.

“It is tonight,” Keith sighs, dragging Lance’s pouting ass to their bedroom. “Get changed into your PJs.”

“I have to - ”

“You don’t,” Keith groans. “Please, Lance. I’ll never bug you about it again.”

Lance pauses. “Promise?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Keith is going to regret this. If Lance remembers it. “Promise,” he says.

“Okay,” Lance says, and falls backwards onto the bed. Keith rushes forward.

“Nope, nope, nope nope nope, you have beer spills on your shirt, out of it, now,” Keith says, dragging Lance off the bed.

He grabs the hem of Lance’s shirt to try to pull it over his head but Lance grumbles, “STOP, I have a boyfriend,” and Keith’s heart _stops fucking beating_ . Holy shit Lance cannot take care of himself right now and holy shit he’s so drunk and just generally the most annoying person Keith has ever _fucking_ met but he is _so in love with him_ and he reaches down and kisses the top of Lance’s head, meeting his confused eyes when he comes away.

“I know you do,” he explains. “I’m just trying to get you into your pajamas. Let me do that?”

Lance nods, raising his arms trustingly over his head as Keith pulls away his shirt.

It takes him another fifteen minutes to get Lance into bed before he’s out like a light, and once he is, Keith immediately pulls out his phone and texts Pidge, who was the only other sober person at the party.

**Keith 2:34 >** pidge listen to me i know you’re awake is it possible to have a crush on someone you’re dating

**pidgeon 2:36 >** keith what the fuck

**Keith 2:37 >** because i was just trying to get lance into his pjs and i was trying to take off his shirt and he was like STOP i have a boyfriend and now i want to die

**pidgeon 2:42 >** asdfghjkl

**pidgeon 2:42 > **jesus fcuking christ keith

**pidgeon 2:43 > **go the fuck to sleep

**Keith 2:44 > **not helping

-

Lance wakes up to the feeling of Keith _not_ in his bed and also a pounding headache. The shades are drawn over the windows, which Lance is unbelievably thankful for, but when he tries to sit up, the sheets catch on something and he looks over.

Keith may not be curled up next to Lance like he usually is, but his head is resting on his folded arms on the side of the bed, Lance’s desk chair pulled right up to the side. He’s sleeping in what looks to be the number one most uncomfortable position ever known to mankind, his head on his left cheek on folded arms on the side of the bed but the rest of his body turned away in a chair with large arms. His long hair (Lance is eternally grateful that he convinced Keith to grow out the stupid fucking mullet) is splayed around his head like a dark cloud and Lance runs his fingers through it. Keith stirs and Lance blames his hangover for forgetting that Keith’s the lightest sleeper ever.

“Hullo,” Keith mumbles, lifting his head up, his hair falling into his face. “Fuck. Ow.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Lance demands as Keith uses the heel of his hand to push his hair out of his face. (Rip Lance. Keith waking up could cause him to overdose on cuteness within two seconds.) “What happened last night? The last thing I remember is doing jello shots with Nyma.”

“Hey baby,” Keith murmurs instead of answering, his face glowing when he looks at Lance. He lifts his left hand and trails his fingers down the side of Lance’s face. “There’s ibuprofen and water on the bedside table. How did you sleep?”

Color Lance confused. “Good, I guess,” he says, his voice feeling scraped raw and heavy with sleep. He throws the ibuprofen back and chugs half the water glass. “I’m dehydrated as fuck, though.”

Keith stands and winces, but takes the glass of water. “I’ll get you some more. You should stay there.” He leans over and tilts Lance’s face up by nudging his free hand at Lance’s chin. Before Lance can express his absolute confusion, Keith give him the lightest of kisses, his chapped lips just barely covering Lance’s softer ones before he lets him go and walks out of the room.

Lance stares after him. “Who are you and what the hell have you done with Keith?” he asks the air quietly. His phone blinks at him from the bedside table and he picks it up, quickly swiping it open and opening a text to Hunk.

**Lance 9:38 > **hunk buddy you’ve gotta help me

Lance puts his phone down as Keith comes back into the room with a full glass of water. He sits on the edge of the bed and smiles at Lance. “Hey,” he says.

“...hi?” Lance asks. “What are you?”

Keith squints at him. “Are you still drunk?”

“No, dude,” Lance says, flustered. “I just - you’re being… unusually nice, I don’t know.” From the bedside table, his phone screen turns on with a notification.

Keith leans over and kisses his cheek. “Guess I just feel like it.”

Apparently he does, because Keith is _never_ this touchy, not of his own accord, anyway. He’s usually too painfully unsure to initiate any sort of affection with Lance - Lance does it all by himself. He doesn’t mind - he would cuddle Keith until the sun burns out if he could - but this is a very, very new Keith.

“Okay,” Lance says, and curls into Keith’s side. “Kiss my headache away, boyfriend.”

Keith gives a light laugh above him (what the FUCK!) and plants a lingering kiss on Lance’s temple. “Any better?”

“Might need some more,” Lance says slyly and Keith lets out a long-suffering sigh above him. Aha. There he is.

But Keith leans down again and kisses him again and again, all along his hairline, all drawn-out and sweet and Lance, what the fuck, Lance is fucking melting under all the attention, and Keith murmurs “I love you” into the junction of his ear and his temple, so soft Lance almost doesn’t hear it, but, duh.

He opens his eyes and beams up at Keith, who’s looking at him with nothing but fondness. “I love you too,” he says, and Keith leans down and gives him a Spiderman kiss. Then he pulls away.

“I have a recipe for pancakes,” he says. “Do you want me to make you some?”

Lance stares. “I _fucking_ love you,” he says, confused as all hell and with so many questions but Keith loves him and he loves Keith and Keith is offering to make him pancakes, so he can figure it out later.

**Hunkalicious 9:40 >** What’s wrong??

**Lance 10:02 > **well i know that party got pretty crazy last night but i don’t really remember anything… and now keith is being super SUPER nice to me

**Hunkalicious 10:07 >** Isn’t that a good thing?

**Lance 10:08 > **well yeah… but idk why

**Hunkalicious 10:11 > **Well I’ll fill you in… I guess when you guys got home last night, he tried to change you into your pajamas and you were like “STOP I have a boyfriend”

**Lance 10:12 >** damn i’m smooth even when i’m practically UNCONSCIOUS


End file.
